


unbearable

by treztine



Series: set our hearts ablaze [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: 4.4 Spoilers, Aged-Up Character(s), Angst and Fluff and Smut, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/F, Sexual Content, ffxiv timeline is (shrug emoji) so, i guess, idk if this needs E rating but, just in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-08 09:13:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16426562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treztine/pseuds/treztine
Summary: Sometimes, things are unbearable. Sometimes, you find a way to get through.Contains spoilers for patch 4.4.





	unbearable

**Author's Note:**

> this is a continuation of a drabble i posted in _patchwork_ , so the first half is basically the same if you've already read that one (with light edits to make it flow better).
> 
> like in most of my other fics, alisaie is in her early 20s here and my wol is 2 years older than her. my take on the ffxiv timeline is that it's been at least 5 years from the start of arr to the end of stormblood. i chose not to tag as underage for that reason since i interpret these characters as adults.
> 
> basically: this is 70% angst, 20% making out, and 10% soft vanilla smut.

The Solar was quiet. 

The disconnecting _click_ of the linkpearl echoed in her ear for a moment before it was replaced by a silence that was stifling in its weight. Perhaps that was why Alisaie paced—to create some sort of noise to distract herself from the ghost of the conversation that replayed itself in her mind. The sound of her boots tapping against stone offered little relief.

"No luck?"

Poppy's question pulled Alisaie from her thoughts. "I'm afraid not," she said with a shake of her head. "It was the same answer as most of the others—the topic is simply beyond their ken." 

A subtle frown tugged at Poppy's lips, but she nodded and wordlessly reached across the desk to cross the name off their dwindling list. Another dead end.

"Well, at least the Sons of Saint Coinach said they'd send some of theirs in the morning," she said as she squinted at the piece of parchment. "That's something."

The Warrior flashed her a hopeful little smile and, despite how frail it looked, Alisaie returned it. She was right. It was _something_ , and enough to feel like they'd at least made some progress in aiding their fallen friends—enough to give her some small shred of hope to cling to. She made her way back to the desk, where Poppy resumed scouring the tome she was hunched over.

Alisaie's gaze flitted over the mess they'd made. There were scattered books, sheets of parchment, pens, jars of ink, and long-tepid cups of coffee that F'lhaminn had made for them that morning. She'd raised a brow when Alisaie asked for it instead of the usual tea, but complied without question, likely having noticed the pair's weariness.

She sifted through the clutter to reach the sheet of contact information that was just as messy as the desk it sat on, with lines drawn through names and notes written in the margins containing suggestions on who to reach out to next. Despite the wealth of connections the Scions had garnered over the years thanks to her grandfather and Minfilia, their options diminished by the day.

Alisaie chewed on the edge of her thumb as she scanned the list, then placed it back down with a sigh and undid the buckles of her coat so she could shrug it off. Perhaps it was the stones that trapped the heat of the hearth or perhaps it was the damnable silence that amplified the pang of despair that tore through her—no matter the reason, she felt stifled again. Alisaie hung the coat from the back of her chair before she let herself slump onto it.

She glanced at Poppy, who sat cross-legged beside her with an elbow propped up on one knee while her other hand fiddled with a pen. The page she stared at likely held something of interest, as she scowled down at it with a furrowed brow and popped the end of the pen into her mouth to dogear the corner. Despite their circumstances, Alisaie was still amused by the sight.

"It's rather disarming seeing you with your nose buried in a book," she said. A thin, nearly wry smile tugged at her lips. "I thought you hated reading."

"Oh, I do," Poppy replied in a tone that would have been droll, had her voice not been pulled taut as a bowstring from exhaustion. She paused and made a sound that landed somewhere between a scoff and a sigh. "But this isn't a problem I can solve with my daggers."

The short-lived humor of the conversation vanished when Alisaie caught sight of her partner's frown. She shifted her attention away to pick at the hem of her skirt and think.

Unlike when Alphinaud first left, Poppy dropped all pretense from the start and hadn't left the Rising Stones once since the horrific events that befell the Scions. Some small, selfish part of Alisaie was glad for her prolonged company, but guilt brushed against her sharply at the thought and clung to her like a stubborn little burr.

"You needn't stay here if there are other tasks that require your attention," she said, voice quiet and almost meek. She hoped it was enough to free Poppy of her perceived burden if she truly wished to leave.

"You shouldn't have to do all this alone," Poppy shot back in an instant, sounding as stubborn as a burr herself. "Besides, nothing's more important than this right now."

Despite her obvious exhaustion, she still managed to flash a determined smile before her attention dutifully returned to the book. It gave Alisaie enough strength to resume her own work.

Both she and Poppy had pulled their chairs to the side of the desk, having silently agreed that it felt wrong to sit where their previous Antecedent sat. Still, as Alisaie reached for the drawer, she hesitated and felt as though she desecrated a grave when she pulled it open. She focused instead on the sensation of blank parchment between her fingers and the weight of the quill in her hand as she began to pen a letter to one of the few promising contacts left on their list.

It didn't take long for her eyes to blur from weariness. Her attention faltered, and she found her gaze wander back to the Warrior. She was surprised to see that Poppy's eyes were closed and an expression that looked pained was pulled across her face. When she noticed the subtle tremble of her hands, Alisaie reached out to touch her knee. She brushed a thumb across it to wordlessly express her worry, and the sensation seemed to snap Poppy from her stupor. She offered another frail smile, but Alisaie could see the cracks form on her facade.

"Just need some air. Be back in a minute," she said as she stood. She wobbled a bit when she made for the door.

Alisaie looked after her, unable to say anything before the door clicked shut abruptly, and was left alone in silence. She let the Warrior have her space despite how difficult it was when unease settled in her gut like a rock, but she pushed the feeling down to instead focus on the letter for a while. The pen seemed to do the talking on its own, while she simply guided it to form sentences more coherent than she thought herself able to write.

By the time the letter was done, half a bell had passed. She hesitated for a while, but Alisaie could no longer ignore the nagging worry that pricked at her like a thorn, and so she stood from the desk to see where her partner had wandered off to for so long.

She emerged to the main hall of the Rising Stones, which was no less silent than the Solar. Many of the remaining Scions had left to enact Thancred's plan, and others went to hand-deliver letters and contact experts in person, while the rest were likely asleep, as the night had long grown old. Aside from flickering candlelight and the sound of her boots that echoed far louder than before, Alisaie was alone—or at least she thought so until she caught sight of a figure slumped in a chair in the far corner of the room.

The other woman's face was shielded from view, but Alisaie recognized her in an instant. She froze in place and stared wide-eyed for a moment as she watched Poppy run her fingers through her hair and press her palms against her forehead. She remembered suddenly and very vividly the horrible headaches that had her doubled over in agony and threatened to tear her head apart. In a blind panic, Alisaie rushed across the room and grasped the Warrior's shoulders when she was within reach.

"Is aught amiss? Are you in pain?" she asked, unable to hold back the raw fear that gripped her.

Poppy's head snapped up. She stared at her in an almost owlish way, clearly surprised by the sudden intrusion. Her eyes were puffy and reddened as if she'd been crying, and the sight made Alisaie's grip go slack.

"No, no. I'm fine. I just..." Poppy trailed off, voice weak. She swallowed thickly and averted her gaze, leaning back to free herself from Alisaie's grasp so she could rub her face. "I'm sorry."

The whispered apology seeped through her fingers and stuck in the air between them like a fine wisp of smoke. Alisaie said nothing, but retracted her hands to give the other woman space. She felt relief and worry and confusion all at once, but struggled to give voice to the thoughts that tumbled uselessly in her mind. Silence stretched between them, but Poppy eventually dropped her hands from her face to speak again.

"I'm supposed to be giving you my full support. I should be stronger than this." Her voice was cracked and harsh, like the sharp end of a broken crystal. She glared off to the side with a cool sort of anger that Alisaie knew was directed at herself.

Not knowing what else to do, she knelt before the Warrior. The stones beneath her were surprisingly frigid, biting into her knees with their incessant coldness. Alisaie ignored the discomfort and leaned forward as she tried to get a better look at the other woman's face. Poppy was as stubborn as ever and kept her eyes averted, looking at the fabric of the armchair with enough intensity to suggest that it held the cure to their friends' mysterious ailment.

"You've offered me nothing but support. Clearly more so than you even realize," Alisaie said with a bit more sharpness than intended. Tentatively, she reached out and took Poppy's hands in her own. "This burden is neither of ours to shoulder alone. We have the remaining Scions and we have each other." Her voice grew soft at the edges, and she had to pause to wet her lips as the rest of what she wanted to say struggled to come out, "You needn't pretend for me. I'm terrified too."

Upon hearing the quiet admittance, Poppy finally looked at her. Her expression was hard to place, but she squeezed Alisaie's hands in return before she tugged at them, pulling her from where she knelt to urge her up onto the chair. She slid easily onto Poppy's lap without hesitation or second thought.

Had it been a different time, she would've been scandalized by such a blatantly intimate display, or joked about how they would be caught and teased by their companions to no end. The Rising Stones was far too quiet and far too devoid of life for such jests to hold any merit. Alisaie said nothing, and instead reached out to place her hands on the Warrior's shoulders. Only the faint sound of fabric that barely brushed together filled the space between them.

The contact seemed to break whatever faltering composure Poppy held onto. She reached out in return, hands grazing against Alisaie's sides before they wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer so that their bodies were flush. She buried her face into Alisaie's shoulder and exhaled several shuddering breaths. The warmth of them bloomed across her skin even through the thick cotton of her shirt. She wrapped her arms around Poppy's neck and pressed a cheek against the side of her head, nuzzling into the soft copper of her hair.

For a while, they were silent. The Rising Stones seemed to heave a weary sigh around them to fill the void.

"How could I let this happen again?"

Poppy's words were so very quiet, but Alisaie still heard them and felt the way she trembled against her at their utterance. A hundred and a half rebuttals flew to her lips at once, but she swallowed them down as they came to her. There was no point in saying things like  _it's not your fault_ or _you couldn't have prevented this_ , no matter how true they were—Poppy wouldn't hear them.

Alisaie could never fathom why the Warrior always insisted on shouldering the blame, but she hadn't been there when the Waking Sands was ambushed or on that fated night in Ul'dah when everything fell apart. She understood then, finally, what it was that Poppy must have felt, having witnessed their comrades collapse before her very eyes—it was a guilt and helplessness that were unbearably crushing in their weight.

"We're going to fix this," she said, whispering into Poppy's hair, trying desperately to convey at least a small scrap of determination.

The other woman remained silent. Only the slight shift of her ears and the tightened grip of her arms indicated that she heard. After a while, she lifted her face from Alisaie's shoulder to look up at her.

"I want to take you to the Azim Steppe," she said, voice slightly hoarse, and Alisaie could feel the warmth of her breath on her cheek from how close she was. "You said you've always wanted to go."

Despite everything, Alisaie managed a smile and wondered what had prompted the sudden thought. "Perhaps sometime soon," she replied. "We can get away, just the two of us."

"We could go right now," Poppy said in a hushed tone that sounded almost desperate. She stared up at her with a wide-eyed, hopeful sort of look, though the shimmering green of her irises only exaggerated the red-rimmed outlines, as if she held back more tears.

Alisaie stared back at the Warrior, feeling a stab of sadness. She knew the other woman well enough to realize exactly what she was doing: she tried to offer a distraction. It was something small and fleeting to help ease the ache and pass the time, just as she had tried to do for her when Alphinaud first left.

"We can't," she replied with as much sternness as she could manage. _We can't run from this_ , she amended silently, but knew that part didn't have to be said out loud.

Poppy frowned, and Alisaie knew it would have been a pout had the situation been less solemn. She leaned forward to press a kiss against Alisaie's lips that was chaste in its softness. "Are you sure?" she asked quietly, eyes searching her face as if she hoped the gesture would somehow change her mind. She kissed Alisaie again for good measure, that time on the corner of her mouth, then peppered several more along her jaw. Each was slow and gentle and left a fleck of warmth in its wake.

"There's work to be done here," Alisaie said, but her resolve wavered when the Warrior's kisses came dangerously close to her ear. She closed her eyes and imagined the Steppe from the fragments of descriptions she'd heard from Poppy and read in books: endless plains of grass that billowed in the breeze like the sea, with an even more endless expanse of stars hanging just above it that looked close enough to touch. Alisaie steeled herself and shook her head, despite how tempting it was to give in. "We have friends to save."

Poppy let out a sad little hum at that. "I know. You're right," she whispered, slumping slightly against Alisaie as if in defeat. Still, she pressed a kiss against the base of her ear and then dragged her lips along its length in a deliberate sort of way. "Always quashing my fun, you are." It was meant to be a jest, but the words were frayed—tattered and torn at the edges like a discarded scrap of silk.

"Someone has to keep you in line," Alisaie murmured in reply, trying to play along despite how her voice cracked and a shuddering breath threatened to escape her.

Poppy hummed again against her ear, and the sound sent sparks down Alisaie's spine. She marveled at the Warrior's boldness when she lowered her head and nudged her way beneath the high collar of her shirt to reach the skin underneath, where her trail of kisses continued. A shaky breath finally left Alisaie at the sensation of lips that just barely grazed against her neck, and her grip on the other woman tightened. Poppy continued downward until she reached her shoulder, where she paused for a brief moment before Alisaie felt the quick nip of fangs against the edge of her collarbone.

The bite pulled a breathy laugh from her. When Poppy leaned back, Alisaie caught the glint of mischief that shone in her otherwise weary, saddened gaze and tugged at the corners of her mouth just so. It all but confirmed just how deliberate the action was—Poppy knew very well just how ticklish she could be.

Her partner wasn't done with her senseless teasing. Her head dipped back down to where her lips met the sensitive skin of Alisaie's neck with more intensity than before. She peppered her affections and didn't stop until her tongue darted out to taste Alisaie's fluttering pulse and then graze it with devilish teeth. She pulled away suddenly, looking very pleased with herself at the sharp breath she drew from Alisaie, who glowered in return.

The Warrior was clever in her vying for distraction. The shift in mood was rather bewildering in its abruptness, but not unwelcome, and Alisaie appreciated the fleeting moment of levity all the same. Though, for whatever reason, the warmth behind Poppy's subtle smirk made her remember very suddenly just how afraid she was.

Alisaie leaned forward and caught the other woman's lips in a kiss that was far less chaste than before, almost desperate in its urgency. The thought that either of them could be snatched away at any moment just as their fellow Scions had made icy fear creep through her veins like frost. She clung to the Warrior and refused to let go, as if that would root her in place and shield her from the machinations of whoever or whatever it was that conspired against them.

She didn't want to even entertain the horrid thoughts that flooded her. An incessant despair still crept in and tugged at the threads of her mind, threatening to leave her unraveled.

Alisaie buried her fingers in the soft wool of Poppy’s cloak, desperate for something that she had no name for. She tugged at it, then let her hands wander beneath its hem as the sudden need to be closer to the other woman found her. The feeling floated on the periphery of her consciousness as her fingers blindly searched for buttons or buckles or anything to aid in removing the barrier of thick fabric between them. She couldn’t help the soft whine of frustration that escaped her and seeped into the Warrior's mouth.

She felt Poppy smile against her lips before she pulled away, leaving Alisaie cold from the sudden loss and wanting to whine again, though she caught herself that time. The Warrior made short work of the cloak. It was almost unnatural how it fell to the stones without a sound, but such trivial details mattered little to Alisaie.

Something overcame her that was biting it its necessity, and urged her fumbling hands to the buttons of Poppy's shirt. She managed to undo the first two before she became impatient and pulled the pale cotton back just enough so her mouth could finally meet the exposed skin of the Warrior's neck. She mimicked her partner's motions from before with kisses and fleeting bites and relished in the sound of the sharp, shallow breaths she elicited. Poppy giggled all the while, seemingly delighted by the attention.

Her fingers came to her waist, and the flat of her palms pressed against her hips in a way that made Alisaie shift forward without thought to meet her hands. She exhaled against the hollow of the other woman's neck, feeling something dark and inky and wholly intoxicating fill her up in the same way a glass of wine would. That warmth ignited into fire when Poppy's hand slipped beneath her shirt and trailed all the way up her side with agonizing slowness. 

Alisaie bit down on her partner's pulse in retaliation and drew from her a gasp that ended in a breathy chuckle. Poppy's nails dug lightly into her skin on their way back down to where she paused at the band of her skirt and dipped her thumb beneath it in a languid, suggestive way. In an instant, her hands withdrew and rested lightly against Alisaie's sides, as if they'd never traveled beneath the fabric at all. The sudden lack of contact left Alisaie wanting. She pulled herself away from the other woman's neck to look at her face.

"Tease," she murmured almost against Poppy's lips, but not quite.

"Oh, but you make it so easy, dearest."

Poppy smiled in a way that was likely meant to be innocent, but her voice was too low, too breathy, and sounded too much like a purr to ever be considered such. As if to prove her point, her hands slipped beneath Alisaie's shirt once more and her nails raked against the sensitive skin of her sides with maddening gentleness.

Alisaie was too slow to stifle the gasp that came with the touch. She glared at her partner, who looked delighted by the reaction. Though, it was hard to stay even mildly annoyed with her when she looked so incredibly enticing. Her cheeks were flushed from their exertions, her slit pupils had grown soft and wide in her fervor, and her kiss-bruised lips parted slightly as she smiled.

Alisaie was overcome again, and their lips crashed together with a newfound intensity that was darker and sharper than before. They were both frantic suddenly—fueled by the need to be pressed together and terrified that they might be ripped apart. The somberness of their situation hung above them like a sword that threatened to fall, but they ignored it—if only for a few moments—in favor of the comfort they craved from one another.

Onze by onze, the weight of their burdens fell away. It was nice, Alisaie realized, to not think for a moment and only to feel—to simply exist and be touched. So she let the Warrior kiss her until everything else melted away, until it was all distant and hazy like a bad dream that could be pushed aside until morning. And she kissed her back until nothing else existed but them on that chair surrounded only by the silent stones of their empty home.

Her tongue slid past the other woman's parted lips, darting beneath the dainty fangs that guarded her mouth. Poppy let out a soft groan at her eagerness. Alisaie pressed in further at the sound, pushing Poppy back against the plush cushions of the chair, and chased her tongue with her own until the other woman was gasping for air and digging her nails into her sides. By the time Alisaie pulled back so they could both breathe, no ilm had remained untouched in her thorough exploration of the Warrior's mouth.

Poppy's hair was messy, framing her face with cropped, ruddy waves, and the flickering of the nearest candle haloed her with a light that made her look nearly ethereal. She gazed up at her with what Alisaie could only describe as silent reverence. The Warrior breathed heavily into the sliver of space between them, though Alisaie felt more breathless than she sounded. Poppy solved that problem when she met her lips to return the breath she stole.

Poppy's hand snaked up her back and rooted itself into the hair at the base of her neck to hold her in place and taste her so deeply that Alisaie saw stars on the backs of her eyelids. She was so lost in the sensation that she barely noticed the deft hand that unbuttoned her shirt. By the time her skin was exposed, she was surprised by the chill air that touched her. She was even more surprised when both of Poppy's hands slid up her stomach and her ribs and the thin fabric of the bralette she wore.

Alisaie let a tiny, choked moan slip into her lover's mouth, who hummed against her in return. Her hands kneaded her breasts, thumbs dragging almost lazily across sensitive buds hidden beneath silk, causing a friction that was as deliriously good as it was frustrating. Alisaie whined through her moan and tightened her grip on Poppy's shoulders in a silent plea for more. 

Poppy let out another pleased little hum at the sounds Alisaie made. She ended their kiss with a sharp, bemused abruptness and dropped her hands lower, pausing beneath the band of the bralette as she glanced up. Her fingers worked at the hem with subtle hesitation. 

"May I?" she asked oh so politely, barely holding back the smirk that played across her lips. 

Had Alisaie been less proud, she would have begged. Still, she found herself bite back the _Gods yes, please_ that crawled up her throat and threatened to push past her lips. "You may," she replied with as much dignity as she could muster, which wasn't much more than a tattered scrap at that point. 

The words spurred Poppy onward in an instant. Alisaie tossed her head back when those wicked teeth grazed her chest. The Warrior's tongue rolled against her as she sucked and bit with such ardor that she could do little more than gasp and arch her back into the sensation.

Time became a blur of touches. A hazy fog settled into every corner and crevice of Alisaie's mind, and she welcomed the blankness that allowed her to focus only on the rapt attention Poppy poured on her. The Warrior kindled an unbearable warmth inside her that burned like an ember threatening to set a forest ablaze. Poppy stoked that flame when her hand slid up Alisaie's thigh. It slipped beneath her skirt, causing a shudder to creep up her spine when her thumb brushed against the inside of her leg. Her hand paused when it reached curve of her hip.

"Sorry that I can't just fix this."

The words were whispered suddenly against the crook of her neck, where the Warrior nuzzled against her in a way that felt somber. It took Alisaie a long, delirious moment to remember what _this_ meant, and the thought tapered the edge of her arousal.

She realized that it was a foolish thing they did—their little game of distraction—given the nature of the situation the Scions were in. Frankly, it was also slightly mad to be doing such things in the main hall of the Rising Stones where a wandering soul could catch them at any moment. Poppy seemed to notice the frown that came with the stab of guilt Alisaie felt. She lifted her head to press a kiss against her jaw and leaned forward to murmur against her ear in a hushed tone:

"But, I can make it more bearable for a while, if you want me to."

The words left little to the imagination. Poppy dug her nails into Alisaie's hip and the sensation was enough to suffocate whatever sense and reason was left beneath the wave of need that crashed over her. She pressed her face against Poppy's hair, as if that would stop her from drowning.

"Please," Alisaie said in a harsh whisper. It was all she could manage to say.

The other woman's thumb brushed against her through her smalls. Alisaie's head lolled forward with a quiet whimper that she stifled with a bitten lip, though the sensation still passed through her body like a spark of lightning. She caught sight of Poppy's heavy-lidded gaze as she dipped her head down to pepper more kisses and bites across her breasts, all while her thumb ghosted across her. Eventually, Alisaie canted her hips against the other woman's hand in search of relief, no longer sated by teasing alone. 

Not a breath later, the Warrior offered her that relief. Her hand stilled only long enough for her fingers to push past the last scrap of fabric between them and find the slick wetness hidden underneath. 

"Poppy—"

Her lover's name slipped out as a shuddering breath. She already felt that she would come apart at the seams if she so much as breathed again. Poppy responded with a kiss pressed against her collarbone as her hand began its deft work. 

Her fingers trailed up and down with a slowness that was both agonizing and utterly merciful. The Warrior teased her with methodical circles until Alisaie felt like an over-wound clock whose mechanisms threatened to spring out. When she brushed against the most sensitive nerves with a reverent tenderness, it set her alight with white-hot flames. Just as she thought it was too much, Poppy slipped a finger inside, pushing in deep enough to make Alisaie swear to the Twelve under her breath. The Warrior puffed an amused sounding exhale against her neck at the muttered blasphemy.

Poppy established a slow, purposeful rhythm. Alisaie met her hand eagerly, pushing herself closer to the brink with each roll of her hips. It was only when a second finger joined the first that she almost lost control. 

Alisaie dug her nails into Poppy's shoulders with enough pressure to bruise, thoroughly overwhelmed by the sensation. She leaned forward and pressed her face against her hair, both to muffle her moans and lose herself in her lover's presence. The faint scent of roses that clung to her, the warm breaths against her neck, the fingers that knew exactly how to make her blood sing in her ears—it was all too much and somehow not nearly enough. The Warrior of Light became her whole world. The only thing that existed was Poppy pressed inside her and against her. 

Alisaie leaned back again, thighs quivering and aching with each second that crept past as she came closer and closer to coming undone. Poppy's pace grew more intense and mounted in speed to where Alisaie could barely keep up. Her mouth was on her neck, her breasts, her lips, her ears—seemingly everywhere at once while her other hand trailed up her side and back to touch every ilm of skin she could reach. 

The Warrior eventually bit down on her neck while her fingers curled inward just so, and her thumb grazed against her in a way that pushed Alisaie over the edge. She was glad that Poppy's lips caught hers as she unraveled, release crashing over her wave after delirious wave. Poppy hungrily drank in every moan and whimper and keen that came out, responding with what sounded like a satisfied purr that rumbled against Alisaie's chest. The sensation made her shiver in awe as she slumped forward, utterly spent. 

Alisaie pressed her sweat-soaked forehead against Poppy's shoulder. Her head swam as if she'd just crawled out of the Ruby Sea, though her shuddering pants eventually turned to less laborious breaths. She gasped lightly as Poppy withdrew her fingers, but soon relaxed when her other hand rubbed her back with gentle affection.

Alisaie's mind was pleasantly blank. The fog of her afterglow wrapped itself around her like a blanket, comforting in it's weight. They were still for a long while. It was a relief when the Rising Stones didn't stir to life around them, their distraction remaining a secret cloaked in shadow.

"Feeling better, I hope?"

The cracked question was shy in its humor. Alisaie let a breathy laugh escape her at the absurdity of the situation when reality crept back into her senses ilm by ilm. She wondered at what point _she'd_ become the one being comforted, but didn't mind in the least.

"Well enough, I suppose," was her hoarse reply. She moved her head back just enough to see Poppy grin down at her, all teeth and affection. 

A soft kiss was pressed against her forehead, somehow chaste despite what they'd just done. Alisaie wrapped her arms around Poppy's neck and held her in a tight embrace, still unwilling to turn her thoughts back to the situation at hand. Inevitably, they did.

"Can we really help them?" 

Alisaie's voice was a frail thread muffled by the fabric pressed against her face. The question came out despite her best effort to push it away. Poppy's arms wound around her waist when she heard it.

"We're doing our damnedest to, aren't we?" she asked in return, sounding resolute despite the softness of her tone. Alisaie felt a smile press against her shoulder before she continued, "I'm not _reading_ for nothing, after all."

Their shared laughter was light and fragile, settling around them like a fresh blanket of snow. Alisaie nipped lazily at Poppy's pulse once more and it pulled another surprised chuckle from her. She relished in the sound. It could all wait for a little while longer, she reasoned as she kissed the Warrior's neck and her cheek and then her lips. The sensation grounded her in reality and reminded Alisaie that she wasn't alone.

"I don't know what I'd do without you."

Alisaie tasted the words on Poppy's breath as she spoke them against her lips, so quiet that they almost didn't exist at all. She recognized them, because those very same words had escaped her only a few suns prior. They were spoken in a moment of vulnerability when she'd been so unbearably thankful to still have Poppy at her side after all that had happened—just as she felt then. She flushed at the realization that Poppy felt the same way.

Alisaie opened her eyes a fraction to find Poppy gaze back at her from beneath dark lashes. The look they exchanged spoke volumes in its fervor. Words formed and reformed in her mind, but nothing clicked into place properly, and she found herself mute. There was nothing she _could_  say, she realized, that would convey the depth of what she felt. So she contented herself with more kisses and spoke instead with her hands to wordlessly tell the other woman, _it'll be all right_. 

She settled against Poppy's chest to let the warmth of hope bloom between them. It _would_ be all right, because they had each other.

**Author's Note:**

> hello this is my very first smut and i'm extremely embarrassed!! i'm new to this so if you think this needs additional tags let me know. i'm gonna go die now bye.


End file.
